


It's Long Overdue

by Moonlit_Lilacs, Validity_For_Dissonance



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Protectiveness, Self-Indulgent, Succession Contest Arc (Hunter X Hunter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25270867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlit_Lilacs/pseuds/Moonlit_Lilacs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Validity_For_Dissonance/pseuds/Validity_For_Dissonance
Summary: Fed up with Tserriednich's vulgar treatment of Kurapika, Chrollo decides to take matters into his own hands.
Relationships: Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Kurapika
Comments: 11
Kudos: 268





	It's Long Overdue

This was teetering on the verge of being insufferable.

From the relative anonymity of a respectable crowd of sycophants and dilettantes, Chrollo watched a specific pair that stood about twenty feet away from him with the calm restraint of a madman in a straitjacket. The men and women around him were engaged in a silly conversation, and at this point, he couldn’t even bother to keep up with them or even show the slightest signs of false interest, even if this was detrimental to his disguise and persona. How could he, when right before his eyes stood none other than an endearingly irritable Kurapika and an obnoxiously flirtatious Prince of Kakin?

There was no question about the blonde’s lack of interest in Prince Tserriednich, but this fact was not sufficient to stop the wave of possessiveness that wracked Chrollo’s nerves and called his limbs into action.

Every time Tserriednich leaned in to whisper something in Kurapika’s ear or when he raked his filthy, shameless eyes up and down the younger man’s body, Chrollo’s grip on the glass tightened until he feared it might break.

His evening suit felt stifling, and the high-society poise that he was forced to maintain was easily betrayed by the near-murderous look in his eyes.

_This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Prince._

Kurapika, on the other hand, seemed wearily resigned to his situation. Being a royal bodyguard meant that he was expected to be on his tip-top behavior at all times— _especially_ with the Kakin royalty. Aside from the occasional flick of annoyance or discomfort, he hardly compromised his position at all. It was nearly impressive.

But at that moment, Chrollo wanted nothing more than to see the explosive blonde that he knew lay dormant in the body of that well-mannered bodyguard.

His lips thinned and he let out a long exhale as he watched Tserriednich’s arm, clad in a gold-embroidered suit jacket, slither around Kurapika’s waist, his fingers skimming over a hipbone in a circular motion. And when he tugged the blonde so that he was flush against his side, the wineglass in Chrollo’s hand finally shattered into jagged pieces that cut into his palm. He hardly winced—or even noticed—the pain, choosing instead to absentmindedly clothe it in a handkerchief before politely excusing himself from the group.

Striding forward, he spared only a moment to relish in Kurapika’s expression when his surprise quickly turned into alarm as he recognized him, but Chrollo’s attention was almost entirely fixed on the prince.

Once he finally reached the pair, a saccharine sweet smile graced his lips before he extended his right foot behind his left, resting on the ball of his foot as he took a deep bow, one hand resting on his chest, and the other arm folded neatly against his back.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” he intoned smoothly, maintaining the position for a few seconds before straightening up to look at a frowning blonde. He nodded in greeting, “Kurapika.”

The question in Kurapika’s eyes was evident. He glared at him with impatient distrust as though to say _‘what the hell are you doing?’_

“My my, I had no clue that Kurapika here was acquainted with the Phantom Troupe leader,” Tserriednich said in a tone that aimed to extract more information out of the two. He seemed to enjoy this for one reason or the other.

Stiffly, and without giving much detail at all, Kurapika said, “We have a bit of a _shared history_.” The last words were almost spat out in bitterness.

Chrollo hummed, leveling Kurapika with a look. “History suggests that our interactions belong only to the past. I dislike the word.”

This seemed to bring Kurapika out of his false composure, body becoming stiff with tension as he grit his teeth. He was no longer the impulsive teenager of two years ago, but he was still easily provoked. “I’m not here to cater to your likes and dislikes.”

“Nor should you,” Chrollo said with a smile. “I would hope that no one’s expectations of you force you into a position of submissiveness.” The insinuation was loud and clear, and someone as clever as Kurapika was bound to understand the hidden meaning behind his words.

But before he could fire back with a retort, Tserriednich offered his incredibly insignificant contribution to Kurapika, “ _Unless_ that person has power and wealth well above your humble station. For instance, if I wanted you gagged and bound and pretty, you would do well to comply without a word. Hierarchy dictates your response in every situation, dollface.”

Was everything about this man crude and vulgar?

Lips curling in disgust, Chrollo had to bite his tongue to keep quiet. 

_Your filthy tongue would do much better being cut from your mouth, Prince. Words or actions, I will not have anyone taint what is_ mine.

Kurapika sucked in an inconspicuous breath, the muscles at the back of his neck tense under the strain of a ramrod-straight back, and his fists tightened behind him.

“Ah, what a fascinating insight, Your Highness,” Chrollo intoned with a falsely impressed voice. “May I contribute with my own?”

With a small, bored gesture of the hand, Tserriednich signaled for him to go forth.

And without saying a single word, Chrollo produced his Skills Hunter book from behind his back and opened it at a certain page which he promptly bookmarked. Kurapika’s eyes hardly had the chance to widen before the prince’s nen beast was restrained without a hitch or a single sound.

Once this was accomplished, Chrollo swung his fist against Tserriednich’s high and mighty nose, producing a squelching sound of splattering blood and shattered bones. Tserriednich's hideously arrogant face, which was now a bloodied canvas, contorted with shocked outrage, and he tended to his tender nose with a trembling hand.

The whole room went quiet. Chrollo straightened his jacket with absolute composure as though he did nothing more than flick an insect off his shoulder.

But Kurapika was having none of it. He grabbed the Spider Head by the forearm and hauled him to the hallway before slamming him against the wall.

“What the _hell_ was that?” he hissed, growing more aggravated by the lack of emotional response from the other man. “You and I had a deal.”

Chrollo pried Kurapika’s hand off of his shoulder, looking straight into his eyes. “Which I didn’t break. The fourth prince was not mentioned in your off-limits list."

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Kurapika rubbed his temples. He was given too many jobs and responsibilities, and with the minimum amount of sleep he managed every night, it was very difficult not to lose his patience. Unfortunately for him, Chrollo had an infinite supply of just that.

“Now he has associated you with me. And I’m instantly associated with Queen Oito and Prince Woble. This little incident of yours could compromise the both of them, at which point I would join Hisoka in hunting you down,” Kurapika stated, emphasizing his last point by jabbing his index against his adversary’s chest.

This failed to amuse Chrollo. A shadow fell over his visage as his lips settled in a frown. This reaction, however fleeting, spoke volumes of the level of hatred he felt towards Hisoka. “Then it’s good for us both that you won’t have to resort to such measures. After you and I are done with this conversation, you can go back to the banquet hall and appease the prince by saying that you have fended me off and that you will allow no such indiscretion to happen again. I assume such attention from you will please him,” he added this with a wry, bitter smile.

Kurapika seemed to calm down marginally before his eyes slanted in skepticism. “And you truly won’t? Repeat such an ‘indiscretion’?”

A smile accompanied by a head tilt was never a comforting combination when it came from Chrollo. “I will be more subtle next time. It won’t be traced back to you, I promise you that much.”

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Kurapika pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered under his breath, “Unbelievable. You’re simply unbelievable.”

Chrollo contemplated something for a brief moment before his eyes flicked back to the tired, sleep-deprived blonde in front of him. “I didn’t break our deal with this ‘little incident’, as you called it,” he mused. “But I might have managed to fulfill a small part of it.”

This snapped Kurapika out of his thoughts and back to alertness. He straightened his posture and inclined his head slightly to the side in askance. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re investigating a series of inexplicable murders, are you not?” Chrollo posed the question mildly, looking very much pleased at how this ended up playing in his favor. Kurapika maintained a level stare at him, answering him without a word being spoken. Chrollo continued, “Food for thought. Something shocking happens and grabs everyone’s attention. What is a telltale sign that a person has something to hide?”

Kurapika considered this for a moment before realization dawned upon him. “The person doesn’t look to see what happened.”

“Precisely,” Chrollo smiled. “They attempt to seem less conspicuous by not moving at all—which, in the case of everyone’s simultaneous movement, is conspicuous in and of itself. I saw such a person moments after I dealt Tserriednich that punch.”

Lips thinned and eyes alert, Kurapika demanded, “What’s their description?”

With his hands in his pockets, Chrollo relayed the information, “A middle aged man. Average height and a stocky frame. He had curly, shoulder length hair and he was wearing thin-rimmed glasses.”

Kurapika committed all of this to memory, and a certain sense of urgency lent a speck of energy to his worn down body. He turned his back and was prepared to go back into the banquet hall, but before striding away, and after a small amount of hesitation, he inclined his head to the side and stiffly said, “I’ll work on accomplishing my part of the bargain as well.” And he was on the move.

A chuckle, low but appreciative, made its way out of Chrollo’s chest. _Thank you_ didn’t have to be explicitly stated, and knowing Kurapika, it never would be.

“Kurapika,” he called.

Stopping abruptly, the blonde turned to look at him with slight impatience.

“I expect you to make it out of this succession contest alive.”

With a scoff, Kurapika raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Now you’re giving me an incentive to get myself killed,” he said wryly. Sparing him one last glance, he turned his back to him without waiting for a response, and within a second, he had disappeared into the crowded room once again.

Chrollo remained where he was, staring at the spot where Kurapika had been with an enigmatic upturn of the lips.

_Get yourself killed?_

_Oh, Kurapika. As if I would allow that to happen._

**Author's Note:**

> 'Tis what we've all wanted: Chrollo punching Tserriednich.  
> This is what y'all get after our heated Twitter rant about how much we hate Terrorsandwich.


End file.
